Chapter 7: The First Sparks of Vengeance
Lucas was still staring at the towering walls, lost in thought, when a voice, laced with mockery, cut through the air behind him.
"Look who’s alive."
His body stiffened. Something about that voice sent an unnatural chill down his spine. Slowly, he turned, his gaze landing on two figures standing a few feet away.
The moment he saw their faces, something inside him snapped.
A sharp pain shot through his skull as fragmented memories crashed into him. He staggered slightly, gripping his temple as the images played out in flashes—dark alleyways, sneering laughter, pain, blood... the feeling of fists striking his body again and again.
Then, it all became clear.
Damian Voss.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp, cruel features and piercing gray eyes filled with amusement. The son of a high-ranking noble, notorious for his arrogance and love of violence.
Edric Hale.
Leaner, with a sly grin that never quite reached his cold blue eyes. He had always been the one who enjoyed watching others suffer, pushing them to their limits just for fun.
Lucas’s breathing grew heavier as his vision blurred with rage. His blood boiled at the sight of them, the memories of their brutality hitting him with full force.